Ex. Haus. Ted.

It’s how I feel these days.  Which is odd because I didn’t think I was doing that much.

Apart from applying to writing gigs on craigslist left and right.  And looking into in-house jobs.  And working the same hours, but pushed back 30 minutes, resulting in a 4:30-9am shift, plus additional fill-in hours.  And hockey.  And exercising.

But I have to admit it’s kind of nice being able to apply to all of these gigs on craigslist.  I had no idea there were so many people looking for help with screenplays.  Yesterday there was a webseries looking for writers.  Check.  There was the Bollywood script.  Check (but still waiting to hear back).  There’s the guy looking for a story editor.  Check, and it looks like I got that one.  And it pays absolutely nothing, which surprises me not a whit.  But it’s something else to add to my resume.  And that’s cool.

Unfortunately, all of the aforementioned stuff has also been taking away from me working on BABY LIKES JAZZ.  Maybe it’s  a subconscious thing?  Since I’m not thrilled with how it’s developing, I’m looking to fill the void, as it were. Eh. Too much self-analysis.  I know I’ll finish it, but that end date keeps getting pushed further and further back.

A few minutes ago, I saw that the Nicholl finalists have been announced.  I bet there’s not one writer who sees that and feels just a bit, maybe even a slight pang of jealousy.  What writer doesn’t want that?  It also doesn’t do me any good to dwell on it.  It’s in the past, and I have to keep looking forward, etc., etc.  Will I enter next year?  Highly doubtful.  Again, I’d be happy to be done with BABY.  And there’s no way I’m entering that.

I think for now I’m happy to keep things going the way they have been, but with a little more me-writing time thrown in.

And sleep.  Definitely sleep.